


running circles around each other

by BeyondTheRavine



Category: Never Have I Ever (TV)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff, Pining, Slow Burn, some mention of paxton/devi but really this is almost all ben/devi lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:47:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25050370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeyondTheRavine/pseuds/BeyondTheRavine
Summary: Whatever it was that existed between them would stretch, or close in, but it never seemed to snap.or: Devi ends up at Princeton and Ben at Yale. Four years after a tumultuous end to their relationship in high school, the two are unexpectedly brought back into each other’s orbits one night. Feelings and impulses – old and new – surface.
Relationships: Ben Gross/Devi Vishwakumar
Comments: 29
Kudos: 192





	1. come on, baby

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!! devi x ben have been on my mind ever since I watched the show and I finally bit the bullet and wrote something of my own lol. I liked the idea of Devi going to Princeton and Ben being a Yale boi, but this story will have flashbacks to their time in high school too. This is my first fic ever, so pls bear w me as I get a handle on things.
> 
> rated ‘E’ to be on the safe side, for later sex scenes. assumes devi + ben are at least 18 
> 
> …hope you guys enjoy!

A lazy sort of anticipation hung over these last few weeks. Just like that, four years had gone by. She had dreamed about Princeton, imagined what classes and life would be like. But she had never fully prepared for the end of this era. Images briefly pass through her mind: a flash of all-nighters, gatherings in tiny dorms and apartments, impulsive hook-ups, and late-night adventures for deliciously greasy food. Devi studies her reflection in the mirror, thinking of the version of herself from high school. She thinks of Eleanor, Fabiola,… _Ben_. With El and Fab, they still made an effort to catch up on a weekly basis over video. But when she thinks of Ben, a small tightness blooms in her chest.

Even after all this time, thinking about him triggered a deep, guttural reaction. For the most part, she successful pushed him out of her mind in college. Classes and extracurriculars kept her plenty busy. When she wasn’t frantically writing essays, managing conflicts for her clubs, and planning for her next internship, she was out with friends. In a spectacular 180 from her previous stance on Devi’s romantic life, Nalini actually began nagging Devi to secure a smart boyfriend starting in the first weeks of freshman year.  
  
“You’re at Princeton, Devi! Take advantage of this pool of potential husbands. Don’t make your life all about being a career woman. Come now, and don’t be too picky.”

Devi tried to date. She really did. But with the guys she came across, a certain spark would be lacking, or it was built on lust that would be as quickly snuffed out as it arrived. Sometimes she’d stumble into bed with a stranger she locked eyes with at a house party, but the ghost of a certain blue-eyed and sharp-witted _someone_ always seemed to linger at the periphery. Some nights, those soft eyes would appear into her dreams and she could almost swear she felt his lips at her ear and his hand sliding down her thigh. And right as she’d reach out for this dream version of him, she’d startle awake. Heart pounding, a sheen of sweat covering her forehead. Those moments, a heaviness pressed down on her chest and the sheer longing and regret that flooded through her made her want to curl up. He was permanently imprinted on her sub-conscious. It was deeply unfair, being tormented in this way. She didn’t understand how she couldn’t outgrow this part of her life, couldn’t sever herself from thoughts of him. As pathetic as she felt in these moments, she willed herself to not check his Instagram or send out a text. God forbid she give into that urge. She didn’t trust herself to not absorb every other detail of his life, didn’t trust that she wouldn’t say or do something incredibly stupid in response. Instead, she would stare at the ceiling and wait for the yearning to subside, imagining that there was a universe where things weren’t so fucked.

Her phone suddenly buzzes and snaps her out of this reverie. _Right, the party tonight_. Her friends were expecting her to meet them, and she’s definitely running late. She finishes with her eye makeup and straightens her dress. Gives herself a nod in the mirror. And then she’s rushing out the door and pushing past this cloud of melancholy.  
  


* * *

She’s in the middle of laughing at two of her friends intensely debating the value of platonic versus romantic relationships in _Brooklyn Nine-Nine_ , when something catches her eye and sharply cuts off her laughter.

_No way. Is that…?_

She bites her lip, tilts her head, and tries to discreetly peer over her friend’s shoulder. Her eyes widen in confirmation. There was no mistaking that profile. _What is Ben Gross doing_ _here_? _Shouldn’t he be in fucking New Haven?_ As much as she balks at his unexpected presence, something simultaneously lights up within her. Not quite joy—there’s too much history between them for it to be joy. The rush of emotion borders on extreme relief, twisted with an undeniably exquisite ache that seems to sharpen everything around her.

 _He looks good. Objectively speaking, of course_. There’s a self-assuredness in his posture that’s replaced the false bravado he had in high school. His shoulders are somehow broader than she remembers. And _his forearms._ Despite herself _,_ she blushes when she realizes how intensely she’s been drinking in his image. Some habits are never stamped out completely. No, they may lie dormant, may be repressed heavily, but they don’t completely disappear. She was never good at ignoring his presence, had spent too many years trying to tell him off and strategizing her studies to outpace him in the race for being valedictorian. Malibu pops into mind…and those days after their high school graduation…and _shit_. She’s reminded of bruising kisses, looks that are too heavily laden with unspoken meaning, the firmness of his arm around her waist. She’s not ready to rehash anything with Ben. Definitely not now, not here. In this dimly lit room reverberating with house music and packed with bodies, the distance between them suddenly feels way too close for comfort.

Someone’s hand is on her arm, and she realizes it’s her friend Heather.

“You okay, Devi? You’ve got that same look on your face that you had when we finished our final for 513.” That economics class had been brutal. Devi almost winces when she remembers how she scraped by, convinced before finding out her grade that she failed the class.  
  
“You know what,” Devi looks at her friends, “I think I just need some air. I’ll be back.”

Before anyone can press her on the issue, she’s finding her way to the back door of the frat house. She silently prays that Ben doesn’t see her, that she can make it through stealthily. Once she squeezes out the door, she breathes out a sigh of relief. Thankfully, nobody else is around. It’s a rarity to find somewhere to be alone at these parties. Looking around, she notes that even the usual group of guys passing around a joint isn’t out here. She contemplates leaving the party early now that she’s outside. The dull pounding of bass thrums on the other side, making her feel as if she’s standing on the edge of a separate world.

She leans against the side of the house and stares up at the night sky, frowning. What were the chances that he’d reappear in her life when she was one week away from her college graduation? A breeze rustles past her, and she tucks back some unruly strands of hair. At their last video call, Eleanor had been raving about manifesting significant people and events into her life, but Devi was pretty sure that required _wanting_ the appearance of said person or thing. Both Princeton and Yale were Ivies, so some crossover between student bodies was expected. But the timing and the place?

What was it, with her and Ben, and critical turning points of their lives? Devi knew enough about statistics and had enough experience with Murphy’s Law— “Anything that can go wrong will go wrong”—to know that the probability of eventually running into Ben tonight was way too high for her liking. The last time they talked had also been a warm night with clear skies, where the stars peered at them, witness to…—she shook her head to clear away these memories. It’s decided. She’ll make up some excuse to her friends for slipping out, try to make up for it by proposing brunch plans for tomorrow, and she can continue with a life free of any contact with Ben Gross.

Resolved, she pushes off the wall and turns to go back into the house. Right as she’s reaching for the handle, the door suddenly opens, and she finds herself looking into the eyes of the one person she’d been trying to avoid. _Come on._


	2. you, me, and the stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the positive reception so far! Your kudos + comments rock my world. 
> 
> This chapter…ended up being longer than I expected lol. It's also fluffier than I originally intended, but it seemed fitting for building the backstory and creating contrast. *shrugs* Hope you guys still enjoy!  
> Also, warning: explicit sexual content ahead

Ben’s eyebrows shoot up in shock, clearly not expecting to see her either.

 _His forearms are definitely more defined_. She mentally pinches herself for being unable to turn off this part of her brain.

He speaks first. “I…it was getting stuffy in there.” 

She manages to gather herself and shakes her head a little in agreement. “Yeah, I came out for the same reason. The ventilation in Sigma Ep is always shit.”

He smiles wryly, and she spots a smudge of pink pigment across his jawline. Her right to lay claim to him disappeared a long time ago, so she forces herself to swallow down the irrational irritation that spikes inside of her. Some unidentifiable emotion flickers in his eyes before a certain, familiar haughtiness takes over. He looks somewhere beyond her before meeting her eyes again. As if it had been only a few days, instead of years, since they last spoke, he quips, “Devi. You’ve should’ve warned me about the humidity in Jersey. How’s it been, camping out in the armpit of America?”

This attempt at casual conversation could only be described as merciful. He should be demanding answers, spitting vitriol. She knows she would’ve deserved it. But here he was, putting on a façade of normalcy, and that fact induces such a sharp twinge of guilt that she has to briefly close her eyes before responding.  
  


* * *

**_About 4 years ago_ **

“Come on Gross, I’m starting to think you’re a budding serial killer. How much longer before we’re there? Are you luring me out here to make me your sex slave? I know you’re obsessed with me but—”

“David. Please. If you can wait five hours in line to meet Nick Jonas, you can wait ten more minutes for us to reach the clearing. Anyways, everyone knows it’s an amateur move to kill on your own property.” He squeezes her hand and quickly glances back at her with eyes full of mirth. Then he turns around, continuing to lead her forward.

She rolls her eyes even though he can’t see her, and drawls, “Uh huh, real reassuring.”  
  


*****

Sometime in the beginning of senior year, the ambiguity of Ben and Devi’s relationship had morphed into something more… _defined_.

Their kiss at Malibu roused feelings in both of them that they didn’t feel fully equipped to handle at the time. Ben wasn’t looking to lose the first true friend he had in a while, wasn’t looking to be an escape. And Devi wasn’t looking to become all homey with _Ben Gross_. Not when Paxton was expressing interest— nearly unobtainable, godlike Paxton.

So she said yes to hanging out with Paxton, said yes to _hanging out_ in his garage, said yes when he asked if she was sure right before he pushed into her. It was unprecedented, but she ends up dating Paxton _hot-as-fuck_ H-Y. At least for a little while. With Paxton, things were easy and fun. He was good about distracting her from thinking about harder things, and his body was _particularly_ good at distracting her. Three months went by. Then came three weekends in a row where they sat quietly on his couch, entirely out of things to talk about, and they both knew that the relationship had run its course. In the end, the decision to end the relationship was mutual. Devi was only _slightly_ disappointed that things didn’t end with her slamming the door in his face in righteous anger. It would have made for a more interesting story for the end of her first relationship. But really, it was as good as breakups go.

She didn’t pursue anybody else after Paxton, deciding to refocus all her energy on flushing out her resume and beating Ben for the top spot of their class. When Ben and Shira broke up in the summer before senior year, she had reflexively muttered, “Finally,” when she found out. The reaction was admittedly lacking in empathy and she tried not to analyze her own feelings in the process. But Ben deserved someone who knew him. Really knew him. The first few days back at school, she had cautiously looked at him, surveying his face for signs that he was in turmoil over the breakup. But he lacked any telling signs—no bags under his eyes, no dark circles—and he continued to spar with her in class. 

In a gradual, unsuspecting process, their in-class debates started to extend outside of the classroom. Before she realized it, it was normal for him to eat lunch with her friends and her. El and Fab knew her too well to interrogate her about it initially, but she caught the way they looked at Ben and her the few times she exasperatedly pulled away from an argument to seek back-up from them. Those looks weren’t quite pity, but they were loaded with _something_. She rationalized that her friends liked to be weird about the guys in her life. But in the back of her mind, she knew that she was tiptoeing around the edge of an abyss that had been left untouched since Malibu.

The major shift followed from one night in October.

They were in the midst of sending out college applications when she found herself at Ben’s place, arguing with him about his decision to also apply to Princeton. She was so riled up that the snacks that Patty had prepared before leaving were pushed to a corner of the kitchen counter. Fuming, “Just last week, you compared Princeton’s political science department to the writing in _Riverdale_ , saying it ‘lacked substance.’ Now you wanna apply? After I’ve already showed you my essays? That’s sneaky, even for you Gross.”

Ben had rolled his eyes. “Yale is definitely my first choice. Doesn’t mean I shouldn’t shoot my shot anyways for Princeton. You can apply to Yale too, you know. I’m not worried. But hey,” he lifted a shoulder and smirked, “Are you really that scared that Princeton would see me as the superior choice?”

She threw a balled-up piece of paper at his head, and he laughed as he swiped it away. “The only thing they would see, is how full of shit you are!”

He took mock offense and raised his brows. “Oh no, you take that back.”  
  
She scoffed, “No way.” Hopping down from her seat, she pelted him with more pieces of paper, punctuating with “You”—he shielded his face —“are”—he moved toward her, batting away more paper—“full of it”—and then he grabbed her wrists to stop her from throwing more paper balls. She was laughing at that point, so it took her completely by surprise when he muffled the rest of her laughter with his lips.

The kiss started chaste, but then he moved to deepen it, releasing her wrists. Her hands reflexively slipped up to his chest. _To draw him nearer or to push him away?_ But he must have anticipated her wavering resolve because he wrapped an arm around her waist and gathered her closer. They were so close now that she was arching into him, the firm planes of his body pulled tight against hers. Enveloped in the remnants of cedarwood from his cologne, faintly tinged with mint and a scent that was uniquely Ben, her heartbeat picked up. Instead of her brain yelling _danger, pull away_ , all she could think was _yes_.

It was only a matter of time before they were wrapped up in each other like this.

His other hand moved to tangle in her hair so that she tilted her head back, opened her mouth to him. And then she was focused on the softness of his lips and the brief touch of his tongue. A slow caress from him. A pleased sigh from her. Her fingers curled into his shirt. He kissed her like he’d been waiting for her all day, and it scared her a little to think that someone could be capable of being that patient for _her_. She broke apart first, and they had both stared at each other, breathing heavily. He looked at her through heavily lidded eyes, a molten blue. And then she was pulling him back to her by his shirt collar, almost wistful that she broke the kiss in the first place.

They decided, ultimately, to refrain from broadcasting this change in their relationship status. Devi told El and Fab. Of course. But after both of their last relationships, Devi and Ben both relished a relationship that was beyond the scrutiny of social media.  
(“…plus, _true power couples just let others notice on their own. Like remember Rihanna and her hot billionaire, businessman boyfriend Hassan?”_

_He looked at her with amusement. A pause. Then, “Damn it, should’ve known you’re after my money.”_

_“Your dad’s money,” she corrected, playing along and trying to keep a straight face. All too soon, she was breaking character and leaning over to hide her grin in the crook of his neck_ )

They never talked about Malibu—she knew she had to be the one to broach that conversation. Ben never pushed her on the subject, having the insight from twelve years of rivalry to recognize how cagey she would be if confronted. The closest she had come to addressing that event was after the first time they slept together. It was New Year’s Day, and Ben’s parents were predictably away. Devi laid on her side, her body angled towards Ben and her head on his chest. As he absently traced patterns on her arm, she felt the urge rise up. To clear herself of this weight. When she tipped her head to meet his eyes, he had smiled at her so sweetly. And then she felt a rush of panic within her, quelling her initial desire to make sense of the past. As graduation drew nearer, they’d been dancing around an unspoken apprehension that this time together would mean more to them than either cared to admit. That this time, their feelings ran shades deeper than they did in Malibu. Devi had no qualms with starting controversial debates in class but when it came to matters of her heart? When it came to Ben? Being brave demanded so much from her. So she suppressed the urge and ducked her head, pressing a kiss into his shoulder instead.

Two months out from graduation, the two formed a bet to increase the stakes for becoming valedictorian. Losing would hurt someone's pride and ego on two levels. In an added display of confidence, and knowing that Devi was obsessed with _Brooklyn Nine-Nine_ , Ben proposed that the loser would have to tell the winner that they were "an amazing human/genius." Whoever lost also had to gift the winner.  
  
She warned him that she wasn’t going to fulfill any strange sexual requests.  
 _(“Ben, you better the hell not tell me to seduce your mom or something.”_

 _He laughs so hard that she grows embarrassed and has to swat his arm, emphasizing, “I’m all for sex positivity but I’m serious, Ben!”  
  
_ _He’s wiping away tears from his laughter as he tells her, “No worries, that’s not my brand of mommy issues.”_ )

He simply requested that she didn’t ask him to use his dad’s influence to set her up with a male celebrity.  
( _“Look, I’m an open man. But when it comes to our relationship, we are definitely not going to make that open. Not even for Harry Styles.”)_

In the end, Devi nabbed the coveted spot of valedictorian. By 0.001 points in her GPA. It was a marginal victory, but a victory nonetheless. She’d gloated and he’d made comments under his breath about a recalculation to “make sure.” But in the pictures of Devi giving her valedictorian speech at the podium, with Ben in the background as salutatorian, he’s looking at her with an expression that could almost be described as _proud_.

*****

It’s been five days since they’ve graduated, so Devi suspects that she’s now about to receive her gift for winning the bet. Finally, they stop walking, and she finds herself at the edge of a large picnic blanket on the ground with a cluster of lanterns surrounding one corner. The lanterns and their warm glow call forth images of fairytale romances. A prince and a princess stowed away into the night. But Devi had long outgrown those happily ever endings— _if they were real, her father would still be here, with her mom and her_ —so she resorts to being flippant.

“Okay Ben, now I seriously think you’re about to sacrifice me as revenge or something.”

He doesn’t dignify her with a response, pulling out a folded piece of paper instead. He’s unusually quiet when he hands it to her, and she realizes that he’s _nervous_. Furrowing her brows, she unfolds the paper, reading the contents before whipping her head up at Ben in astonishment.

Incredulously, “You got an asteroid named after me?!” 24892 Devi Vish. Request fulfilled by the International Astronomical Union.

He smiles shyly. “Yeah. Initially, I thought about getting a star…but it turns out that personalized star naming isn’t valid. And I wanted to give you something legit. You know, like something that would last? Turns out the IAU actually considers proposals for naming asteroids. So I pulled a few strings and…” he trails off and gestures towards the paper in her hand.

She’s still quiet so he continues. “I wanted to bring you out here to tell you, because as terrible as the light pollution is in L.A, this spot is half-decent for looking at stars. Asteroids aren't stars...but hey, all space matter.” He grins at her.

At the start of sophomore year, she would have derisively snorted at anyone who suggested Ben Gross was capable of thinking of someone besides himself. She wouldn’t have guessed that underneath his layers of snark, lay a tremendously generous heart. She wouldn’t have guessed that even then, he had burrowed a path into her own heart. The sneaky sonofabitch.

It’s the wrong time to make a joke though, so she does the one thing that feels right and pulls him into a kiss. It’s a kiss that says _thank you_ , a kiss that says _I adore you_ , a kiss that says _I am so happy you have no idea_. 

She doesn’t want to imagine any other girl being privy to his thoughts or on the receiving end of his affections. A fierce desire tears through her to be as close him as she possibly can. Here, underneath the stars, she wants it so that this moment is imprinted on his brain too.

She kisses him more urgently, swearing to herself that she’ll savor his mouth later. Now, her lips seek out his as if they’re pressed for time. It's hot, uncontrolled. And as he always does, he matches her fervor. She can’t undo the buttons of his shirt fast enough, and once she finally pushes the offending fabric off his shoulders, she kisses her way down his chest, dipping past his stomach. Briefly admires the way his muscles give under her touch. She shucks his pants off, kneeling before him and silently grateful for the blanket. He realizes what she’s about to do as she takes him out of his boxers, because he almost immediately protests, stammering, “W-wait, this was supposed to be about you—” but he cuts off with a strained moan when she wraps her mouth around him.

She has no idea if she’s good at this, had never done this with either Paxton or Ben. She only knows from reading online forums that she should probably watch her teeth, but she’s encouraged by the gentle _oh fuck_ ’s and choked whimpers falling from Ben’s mouth. When she looks up at him through her lashes, she notes that his pupils are blown wide. He exhales shakily, and he’s looking down at her so _reverently_. Eyes glazed, brows drawn up in twisted pleasure. He groans when their eyes meet, and she actually clenches at the sound.

“Devi,” her name comes out sounding strangled.

A dampness gathers in her underwear just from seeing and hearing him so _completely wrecked_.

She moves her mouth down a little faster than before at one point, and he sharply jerks, causing her to choke slightly and quickly pull away. All she hears is a string of “sorry, I’m so sorry” and then his hands are cupping her face and his mouth is pressed against hers. He impatiently slips her dress over her head, unhooks and drags away her bra, and gently leans her back onto the blanket, settles in between her thighs. He turns his attention to her neck, sucking and then licking away the sting, and she gasps, “Ben, please.”

One of his hands travels down the column of her throat and encloses on her breast, tightening possessively. Then he trails the hand down her stomach, leaving goosebumps in his wake. His hand slides into her underwear, and he must immediately feel how _ready_ she already is for him because his lips temporarily stall at her neck. A furious blush rises to her cheeks, and Devi half-expects Ben to comment.

But he doesn’t, only makes an approving “Hmmm” at her neck before working her into a mess with his fingers. She grips at his arms, helpless to the building pleasure, and she's _close_ when he decides to shift back, causing her to whine at the loss. He chuckles quietly in response, quickly snagging off her panties. She hears the familiar rip of a condom wrapper before she feels him at her entrance.

He pauses briefly. For a moment, there’s only the sound of their ragged breathing. Then he bends to whisper in her ear.

“Devi, you are an amazing human/genius.”

The timing of this concession is comical, but her resulting laugh is caught in her throat as a strained groan as he pushes inside of her. He thrusts, slowly before picking up some speed, bringing his mouth back to hers and swallowing her moans. They’re both too wound up for each other for it to last long. It’s as he’s drawing circles on her clit when Devi comes, eyes fluttering and fingers clutching his arms. She breathes out, “ _Ben_ ,” like a prayer. He follows her over the edge soon after.

It takes them a few minutes to catch their breaths, and a companionable silence settles around them as they stare at the stars. Studying the expanse of the sky, Devi thinks about Ben and her in the grand scheme of the universe. How they are tiny specks who happened to cross paths at the right time and the right place. The randomness of it all. The wonder. Eventually, the air chills around them, a signal to return indoors. They dress, and Ben only haphazardly buttons his shirt, seemingly contented with the few buttons he does fasten. When he looks up at Devi, the moonlight slants on his face _just so_. He’s sporting a blinding grin. Pure elation. The full force of this ebullience is directed solely at Devi, and she thinks that she’s never seen someone so radiant.  
  


* * *

**_Present Day_ **

  
She ignores his question about life in New Jersey and responds, almost imploringly, “Ben.”

At her tone, his own gaze shifts from a carefully cultivated neutral to wary, measured. It slightly unsettles her, how he’s much more of a man than a boy now.

“Ben,” she starts again, “do you want to get out of here?” Her pulse picks up an irregular rhythm, and she’s reminded of how vulnerable she’s liable to feel around him. Words had to be chosen with precision, actions thought through with consequences.

He studies her without saying anything for a few moments, and she begins to brace herself, thinking that _this_ is the moment when he tears into her. The calm before the storm.

Then decidedly he says, “Yeah. Okay.” He opens the door for both of them, and they step back inside the party. He catches her eye. Her move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What can I say, I’m a sucker for romance and prolonged tension.
> 
> The whole "___ is an amazing human/genius" is a reference to the Halloween Heists from B99. If you got that reference, you rock. 
> 
> Comments are super welcomed :)


	3. tipping point

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...all i can say is that i don't mean to offend anybody, please be warned of the explicit rating, and hope you all have an awesome weekend! xx

It’s difficult to clearly think, with the pounding of music overhead mixed with the frenzy of people around her. She needs to make a decision. Fast. Devi purses her lips. And then she knows exactly where they should go. Releasing a shaky breath, she steels herself. _Okay. Move it, Vishwakumar_.

As she scans the crowd and looks towards the entrance, she makes eye contact with one of her friends. Sam. He immediately waves at her, motioning for her to come over. But he quickly stops when he notices Ben by Devi’s side. Sam gives Ben a once-over before a sly smile rises on his face. A wide, suggestive, oh-you- _go_ -girl smile. He exaggerates a wink and flashes her the “okay” sign, and Devi wants to escape her body with the way tonight is going.

 _So much for a Ben-less existence in college, even in the minds of her college friends_.

Devi doesn’t want to check if Ben caught that interaction, doesn’t want to see what expression he may be wearing in response. Instead, she starts making her way to the front of the house, with him following closely behind.

Even in a room tightly packed with other bodies, she’s _still_ so aware of his body. Even after all this time. It’s the type of self-consciousness that makes her too focused on the way she’s walking or the way she looks or—she suddenly steps backwards to dodge a beer pong ball that whizzes past them. A firm hand is immediately at her waist, steadying her. Ben’s hand. She can _feel_ the heat of his hand through the thin fabric of her dress and has to repress a shiver. Traitorous body. She turns her head back to quickly say “thanks,” but she underestimated the distance between them because she finds herself eye-level with his lips. Everything seems to slow down around her. At this angle, it’s hard not to remember. The way they felt between hers. The shift in the energy between them when she’d sink her teeth into his lower lip. The way he tasted that summer night.

If she tilted her head and moved in closer, would he lean down and meet her halfway? It’s a bad idea. Impulsive. His lips part, spurring her breathing to pick up a little, and she has to drag her eyes up to meet his. From the way he’s looking at her mouth—dark and contemplative—seems like he also remembered.

Devi whips her head back about the same time that his hand falls from her waist, and they continue making their way towards the front. Jostle past elbows. Swerve past drunk couples barely holding onto their beers. They _almost_ make it without further incident.

Suddenly, there’s a flash of long blond hair and a high-pitched squeal. “Ben! Ben, baby, don’t tell me you’re leaving already.” A girl wraps her slender arms around Ben—Devi reflexively frowns—just as a well-built guy comes around and claps Ben on the shoulder. “Mate, are you seriously going? Did you find—” and then he spots Devi.

He tosses Ben a weird look. It comes and goes so fast that Devi doesn’t have time to decipher it. In the same accent— _South African?_ Devi wonders—the guy asserts, “11am, Gross. Remember.” Then he flashes Devi a smile that’s all dimples and boyish charm, as he moves away, whisking away the other girl with him.

As Ben and she step onto the front porch of the frat house, thoughts swim around in her brain.

_Who were those people?_

_Ben’s…friends? What’s supposed to happen at 11am? But was the guy alluding to Ben finding a person?_

At that last thought, she wonders if he could have been looking for _her_. But then she immediately feels foolish for even considering that possibility. There was no way he would have wanted to seek her out, no way he could have known that she’d be at this particular party anyway. There were easily four or five other parties also happening tonight.  
 _He probably meant whoever Ben was sucking face with earlier then and—_

“Devi?”

She’s pulled out of her thoughts. Right. She worries her bottom lip, briefly reconsidering her initial idea, but she truly can’t think of any better place.

Facing him, she puts on a solemn expression.

“How do you feel about fries right now?”  
  


* * *

  
Oddly enough, bringing Ben to this diner soothes Devi. The diner is the furthest thing from an extravagant, expensive West Hollywood restaurant. No sleek industrial furnishings or flashy chandeliers. Howard Gross _would not_ bring a potential client to a place like this one. But for Devi, it’s a familiar place, a classic. The diner had been her favorite retreat with friends after a long night out. And in this situation, where her ex-boyfriend and she were having a surprise reunion, she’d seek out any familiarity she could get.

The owner raises a hand in acknowledgement as they step in, ushering towards a booth. They slide onto worn, dark green leather cushions, sitting at opposite ends and separated by a wooden oak table. The overhead lights wash the place in warm umber hues.

Devi asks for fries and Ben gets a Coke. As they settle, Ben muses, “It’s always about the diners with you, huh.”

She doesn’t know if he means to conjure up everything about the diner date they had in high school, but she swallows roughly anyways.  
  


* * *

**_About 4 years ago - March, before graduation_ **

They’ve been arguing inside Ben’s dad’s car for the past twenty minutes. Patty expected them to leave a long while ago so has been periodically peering at them from inside. Each time, she seems increasingly more concerned at their lack of movement from the driveway.

Meanwhile, inside the car:

“David, do I have a choice?”

“Do you have a brain? This should be easy. One word, three letters.”

“With my dad’s connections, I could easily get us into a five-star restaurant. We could eat something that Gordon Ramsey would actually approve of.”

“Don’t be a snob. The place gives out total Pop’s diner from Riverdale vibes. This diner is _inspired_.”

Ben gives her a look. “This diner looks _insipid_.”

“Wow, look at someone using their SAT vocab,” Devi drawls sarcastically.

“Did you even read the Yelp reviews?” He feigns horror as he flashes his phone screen at her.

She groans, pulling his arm down. “Ben, let’s _go_. And if it’s a bust…I’ll…I’ll make it up to you.” _A compromise of sorts. Look at her, being the mature one in this relationship._

He lifts an eyebrow and a corner of his mouth lifts up conspiratorially. “You’d make it up to me?”

She rolls her eyes and pushes his arm off of her, “You’re gross, Gross.”

He smirks, “It’s a deal.” And then he starts the car.  
  


*****

They walk out of the diner back to the car, arms intertwined, and Devi’s leaning into his shoulder. “What’d I tell you?”

“I’m still thinking about those fries. Might dream about them later.”

She chuckles in agreement, “I know.” Poking him teasingly in the ribs she adds, “My ideas are always good.”

He makes a noncommittal noise, unlocks the car, and they enter. His hand pauses on the keys, hesitating before starting the engine, and he turns towards her.

“I’m glad we did this.” The far-off neon red lights of the diner cast a muted glow in the car, highlighting the tenderness in his eyes.

Devi’s lips form into a soft smile. “Me too.”

He smiles back, his eyes zeroing on her lips, and they both lean towards each other. Their lips meet, indulgent. Ben’s hands reach up, cradling Devi’s face. When his tongue traces the seam of her lips, she gives a soft moan, granting him entrance. She brings a hand to the back of his head, gathering him nearer. Her fingers lightly scratch against his scalp, drawing out a low sound of appreciation from him, and then she shifts up and slides onto his lap.

Anyone could see them in this parking lot. It’s risky business to do anything more than kiss, and quite frankly, Devi’s not into exhibitionism. But she convinces herself that they’re _fine_. Just toeing the line, dancing around the edges. An idea forms in her mind to tease Ben a little, and a thrill charges through her. Heart pounding furiously, she rests a hand on Ben’s chest and realizes he’s equally affected.

He starts hardening underneath her, and the knowledge makes her core ache a little. The space is tight, but she rolls her hips against him, testing him, and he groans. Breaking the kiss, he leans his head on her chest and grumbles, “Fucking tease.” His eyes are black, voice gravel, and she can’t resist. She rolls her hips again, and Ben grunts, makes to move forward. But as Devi leans back, she accidentally leans too far and nudges the car horn.

The loud blare of the horn forces them to jolt apart. When the initial spike of adrenaline wears off, they both break down laughing.

Catching her breath and giggling, Devi pecks his cheek— “Come on, let’s hurry back—” swinging back onto her seat.

Her thighs are squeezed together the entire ride back, and they can barely hold conversation, anticipation heavy in the air.

He makes sure to show her exactly how he feels about her teasing later.  
  


* * *

**_Present Day_ **

They’ve been…catching up. Skirting the heavy topics like _why he's here_ or _what she had done,_ so things are actually civil. Ben has been running through stories of _how awesome_ Yale has been. Devi temporarily zones out once he starts talking about rushing for his fraternity. She pops more fries into her mouth, half-listening, but the entire time she’s thinking _Ask me. Ask me why_. The unspoken conversation is a ticking time bomb, and she actively forces herself not to fidget.

“Ben—,” she starts at the same time he switches topics and asks, “Did you know that the earliest origins of diners in America are thought to have started with horse-pulled wagons?”

What had happened, what she had done—that conversation needed to happen on his terms in the same way that the conversation about Malibu needed to start with her. So she relaxes and leans back against the cushions. Deciding to humor him, “Yup. Good old Walter Scott.”

“Well, arguably the credit officially goes to Charles Palmer. He’s the one who holds the patent.”

She pushes off from the cushions, no longer lounging. “A statement printed on an arbitrary slip of paper is hardly the best method for determining originality when additional evidence suggests otherwise.”

Somewhat patronizingly, he states, “Patents aren’t arbitrary, they establish ownership and protect the inventor.”

She crosses her arms and rests her elbows on the table, bending towards him. “Look, unless Yale has grossly—pun partly intended—” his lips twitch slightly, as if he’s fighting against a smile, “failed you in your education, you and I both know that bureaucracy is an imperfect system for establishing recognition. Raphson versus Newton. Tesla versus Edison. Someone is always fucked over.”

He holds her gaze, and under this lighting, she’s fascinated once more by his eyes. A clear, deep blue framed by lashes that cast shadows over his cheek bones. Devi missed having Ben’s eyes on her the way they are now: shining with defiance, unwilling to back down. Some dormant part of her _awakens_ at this exchange, this push and pull that effortlessly slipped into their conversations. In another universe, one in which they were still together, this would be a time when she’d yank him across the table into a kiss. But this is not that universe.

He blinks slowly before lowly murmuring, “Yeah, someone always is.”

And then she can’t tell if they’re still talking about the process of properly obtaining credit or something else. Her mouth is suddenly a little too dry. She reaches over for his drink—ignoring his initial look of dismay—and takes a deep pull.

After, in an attempt to change the subject, she tucks her hair back and asks, “What, uh, what do you have going on after graduation?”

He sits back. “I’m going into finance. Already got offers from some banks but I’m still waiting to hear back from a few others before I make a decision.” He steals her remaining fries and takes his drink back. Sips. “What about you?”

She briefly ponders how to respond. Their relationship isn’t close enough—not anymore—for her to ask more details about his offers. But she can tell him about her.

“I accepted an offer from Tweed D&D in New York last week.”

His eyes widen. Emphatically, he replies, “That’s _huge_ , congrats. I’ve heard it’s not unusual to see celebrities on a given workday at that bank.”

She chuckles, “Yeah, when I interviewed, someone who worked there actually tossed me a first edition signed copy of a Dickens novel and told me to keep it. Said that Kanye had randomly passed it to him and remarked he didn’t have any need for it.”

“No way.” Ben lets out a small breath of disbelief, shaking his head with a grin.

Devi nods thoughtfully. “Yeah, I know… kind of crazy.”

The conversation is drifting to a close, and in this moment, there are two ways things could go. They could call it a night here, part on half-decent terms.

Or the other option—he probably doesn’t care much for Dickens, but she doesn’t want to let him go just yet so the words tumble out of her mouth before she can second-guess herself. “Do you…want to see it? The book?”

“At my place,” she clarifies.  
  


* * *

They step into her apartment and she flicks on the lights.

“Make yourself comfortable.”

It’s hot, almost sweltering, and she goes to turn on the AC before gathering her hair up in an elastic. She catches Ben watching her, his eyes focused on her neck, and her throat runs a little dry. Her own eyes flit to that spot near his jaw, remembering that smudge of lipstick she’d seen earlier in the night. Without realizing it, her face arranges into a scowl and she only tears her eyes away when he asks for the bathroom. Clearing her throat, Devi directs him and then moves towards the kitchen, if only to place some more distance between them when he comes back.

_What do normal people do when they have their ex in their small, one-bedroom apartment? Specifically, an ex following from a terrible breakup? …Should she attempt to be a good host and offer something to drink?_

She has no idea.

When he returns, she notices some water droplets clinging to his neck— _interesting_ —and then Ben starts walking around her living room. He studies her framed photos, drags his fingers along the edge of her couch. From behind her kitchen counter, Devi watches him inspect their surroundings. Having him in her place right now is surreal. _Here_. Princeton, New Jersey. Benjamin Gross. Both miles away from California. She observes him bend down at her bookshelf and peer at her books. He turns to her, “The Dickens isn’t here?”

Devi takes in a breath, “It’s in my room.”

He follows her to her bedroom, and she goes to the drawer next to her bed. It takes her a few moments to rummage through, but she finally spots the novel and retrieves it. Straightening up, she turns around to pass it to him when she notices him staring at the certificate tacked above her desk.

_24892 Devi Vish. Request fulfilled by the International Astronomical Union._

  
  
Of all the things that she expected to trigger him, she hadn’t expected it to be about the asteroid he got named after her. Or maybe she should have. Everything leads back to that night, after all.

When Ben meets her eyes, his jaw is clenched, his eyes are a piercing blue, and for the first time all night, he’s looking at her the way she imagined in her dark hours. All pretense gone, replaced with a look of utter betrayal, outlined in resentment.

He breathes out a harsh breath through his nose before speaking.

“The fact that _this_ ” – he nods towards the certificate – “is here seems to suggest that it means _something_ to you.” The words are smoldering in barely repressed anger.

He continues fiercely,  
“And here’s what I don’t get.

The way I remember that night, it seemed like things were _really good_ between us. And I knew you had to leave for India the next day, but then you weren’t responding to any of my messages, even when you were back. Eleanor and Fabiola _insisted_ they didn’t know anything. And from you, for the rest of the summer, nothing. No text, not even a fucking email. You cut me off like it meant nothing—like _we_ meant nothing.”

“No…no,” she’s shaking her head in vehement disagreement. “ _No_ , it wasn’t nothing.”

He huffs humorlessly. “A part of me, _one that I was actually ashamed of_ , was afraid, that you’d run and bolt after that night. But god, you of all people should’ve known how it would make me feel. What you did _hurt_ —” his voice cracks, “it hurt worse than all the times my own fucking parents left me. Because you knew my insecurities, and you still did it.”

The longing to reach out for him chokes out the air from her lungs. She wants to grab his face between her hands, smooth out his expression, beg him to listen while she explains herself.

But then Ben bites out harshly, “You were a fucking coward.”

Her stomach drops, her fingers digging into her palm. It was something she’d bitterly thought to herself. But hearing it from someone else—hearing it from _Ben_ —produced an entirely different effect. And just as quickly, anger rises within her, because he didn’t get to label her like that without hearing her side. He didn’t get to appear in her life and throw the accusation out like a fact. Devi’s eyes flash with indignation, her chest rising and falling rapidly. “You have no idea what I was going through. Did you ever consider that I reacted, thinking about both of us? Don’t act like you knew me well enough to speak for what I’d done.”

He narrows his eyes, and his nostrils flare. “ _I_ didn’t know you?” he shakes his head scornfully. “You barely knew yourself at that point—even after months of dating, we still couldn’t talk about Malibu or your dad. I could be inside of you, and you still weren’t really letting me in.”

Devi’s not violent—she really isn’t, had grown up learning how to use her words to fight, believing reasoning was the civilized way to reach compromises. But his words are a tipping point, and she can’t help herself when she pushes against his chest, snarling, “Fuck you.”

He locks her wrists in his hands, trapping her hands against his chest, and heatedly counters, “Fuck _you_ , right back.”

Their eyes are boring into each other’s. Chests heaving. Ben’s eyes are wild—fiery and glittering with rage. His jaw ticks, and the air might as well have been vibrating with his displeasure alone. She’s sure the way she looks is no better, no calmer. But even when Devi’s mad as hell at him, she thinks he looks divine like this. Right on the edge of losing control. Anger and tension roll off both of them in waves, crowding out oxygen, shrinking the room.

She’s not sure who moves first, only registers a second later that he has her pinned against the wall and his mouth is on hers. Their hands are all over each other, gripping and grabbing. Ben slides his hand down her torso before bringing them back up to Devi’s chest, greedily palming her breasts. A small moan escapes her, and she runs her hands down his chest, down his abs. The idea of another girl all over him tonight is abhorrent and she sinks her teeth down on his lip. Not hard enough to break skin. But enough of a warning for him to break apart with a hiss. Mouth swollen, he looks at her, gaze dark, and then reaches out to grab her ass so that she’s pulled flush against him with one of his legs slotted between hers. A delicious friction builds against her core, and all the while they keep their eyes on each other. Never wavering, glued to each other. His hand tightens sweetly on her hip, and when he brings his mouth back down, tongue sweeping into her mouth, she could almost _weep_ from the familiarity. God, she missed this, missed him.

Clothes are ripped off, and then they’re on her bed. Ben arranges her so that he’s behind her while she’s propped up on her knees. He spreads her thighs apart and Devi’s cheeks warm at how he’s laid her out. She can’t see Ben’s face but he can see _everything_. This sense of vulnerability is quickly overpowered by the throbbing of her core and her overwhelming sense of desire.  
  


To Devi’s surprise, Ben presses an open-mouthed kiss to her core, leading her to cry out, “ _Oh,_ ” before she hears the rip of foil. And then Ben is sliding into her with a groan, stretching her walls. After a brief moment for adjusting, he begins pounding into her, and she grips her bedspread, helplessly trying to smother the noises that fall from her mouth.

When she turns back to see his face, she sees his face twisted in concentration as he stares down at the place they’re joined, biting his bottom lip. A few beads of sweat roll down his temple. Ben lifts his eyes up, the blue in his eyes obscured by black, and then he shifts his hips. The tip of his cock nudges something inside of Devi that lights up all her nerves. Pure, hot pleasure streaks through her veins. The force of this pleasure causes her arms to give out so that she falls forward, with the soft cotton of her bedspread pressed up against her cheek. _This was new_.

Ben runs a hand down her back and murmurs, “Why would you give up on this?” his unassuming tone a sharp contrast to what he was doing to her body.

She doesn’t think it’s an actual question directed at her, so she practically sobs when he stills his movements, tightens a grip in her hair, and lowers his mouth next to her ear. “Devi?”

Ben continues rolling his hips against hers, but only shallowly now, and it’s not _nearly_ enough. She squirms, incredibly frustrated at the denial. Then he snaps his hips to hers just once—causing her to whine—before resuming with shallow thrusts. He’s being mean and she thinks, _fuck this_ , and tries to reach a hand down- but he’s faster and pins her hand on the bedspread. His chest covers her back in this position. Skin to skin. Ben presses a hot kiss against the side of her neck and then nips, causing her to gasp loudly.

“Come on,” he urges her, “tell me.”

But Devi’s never been one to concede easily so she tries to grind back against him, tightening around him, and he growls before biting at a juncture of her neck. Maybe they’ll both combust from need.

The thing about Ben is that he’s always known her weaknesses. He sucks at a spot underneath her jaw, and it’s a spot that makes her tremble almost viciously. Her walls flutter around him—they simultaneously groan—and she’s so desperate for release she’ll say anything. Would likely do anything, too, in this lust-driven haze. So, frustratedly, she snaps out, “I was in love with you! I was in love with you, okay? And it scared me, is that what you wanted to hear asshole—”

He releases her wrist, pulls out of her, and flips her over so that she’s on her back.

“ _And there it is._ ”

His mouth returns to hers, and then his hips are back at setting a delectable, punishing rhythm. He’s hitting _that spot_ inside of her, and she feels _so full_. _Absolute bliss_.

She's been teetering around the edge for awhile, and then Ben's mouth starts going slack, signaling that he was close as well. He grunts. She keens. They come together, watching each other unravel, in sync again for the first time in years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you guys are well and enjoyed this chapter! your kudos and comments brighten my day <3
> 
> annnnd i think the next chapter will likely be the last one :)


	4. crisscrossed again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've made it. As always, hope you all enjoy <3

It’s almost staggering for Devi, her relief at seeing Ben still in her bed when she comes out of the bathroom.

He’s sitting, leaning against her headboard with her blanket drawn across his waist. He looks at home there, like he _should_ be there. As Devi makes her way closer to her bed, he looks up from his phone. Sets it aside on the nightstand. The dim lighting of the lamp softens everything, makes the scene almost dream-like. Devi can’t help but sweep her eyes down shyly, despite what they just did together. Even though she slipped on an oversized t-shirt on her way to her bathroom earlier, she somehow feels barer than before. Naked in a different way after her admission.

_I was in love with you._

She slides onto the bed so that she’s also sitting, facing him.

“Hi,” she whispers. Unsure, a little awkward.

“Hi,” he whispers back, eyes kind.

Devi shifts her gaze downwards. “You, um…you weren’t wrong earlier—I was really lost in high school. And you deserve an explanation for that night. You do.”

She takes an unsteady breath before beginning.

“My dad…my dad really liked old Hollywood films. There’s this one called _It’s a Wonderful Life_ —” she peaks up at Ben to see if it sparked any recognition.  
  
He nods his head, “I’ve seen it.”

“Okay. Well, you know that scene where George Bailey says ‘What is it you want, Mary? ...I’ll give you the moon Mary’? My dad really liked to quote that line at my mother. In a half-joking kind of way whenever she’d fuss about him doing a poor job on some sort of chore. He would always say it while pulling her into an embrace, and each time, it managed to soften my mom. And you’ve seen my mom. Soft isn’t one of the first adjectives that leap to mind.”

They share a small, knowing smile.

Devi continues, “Anyways. They would look at each other in… _this way_. _With love_.” Her voice trembles a little on ‘love.’

“After my dad passed, I didn’t see that expression on anyone around me for a long time. Until…that night with us. You had just finished dressing and when you looked up at me, it was _that look_.

“And there I was, holding the asteroid certificate. Feeling exactly the same way for you. I kept thinking about that stupid moon quote and about my dad, and it made me…” her voice tapers off.

“Scared?” Ben supplies gently.

Devi forces herself to meet his eyes. “Terrified. I wasn’t ready to allow someone to be that important to me again. Risk giving my heart over, only to lose it by surprise? To do that willingly? I thought freezing you out would be easier on both of us in the long run.”

“Why?” he asks, looking at her intently.

Devi lets out an exasperated sigh. “I had _so many_ things to work on…all that grief over my dad, my struggles with winning over my mom…I couldn’t have used you as a hiding place forever. I would have drowned you in my mess. We were just about to start college too, and everyone talked about college like a place to reinvent yourself. An opportunity for a fresh start. I thought you—we—both deserved that.”

“You didn’t trust me to handle it if we had a conversation about it? And talked it through _together_?”

Eyes glassy, Devi rasps, “I didn’t trust _myself_. I’ve…I’ve been working through a lot of things these last few years. I know _now_ that denying myself of loving someone isn’t a form of protection, only hurts everyone involved.” She presses her palms to her eyes in an attempt to contain her tears. “But back then, god, I was an idiot.”

Ben reaches over, drawing her hands away from her face. And this was Ben. Playing the part of the comforter when he was the one who should have been comforted in this situation.

Devi blinks away tears and despite her voice shaking, tells him honestly, “I’m so sorry, Ben. You didn’t deserve to be hurt like that.”

Ben looks at her wistfully, his own eyes taking on a shine. “I didn’t,” he agrees. He tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “I was in love with you too.”

* * *

Devi wakes up well-rested, as if she’s woken from the best sleep in years. Sunlight streams into her room, and she stretches contentedly.

Her clock shows that it’s 12:00pm, and then she’s struck by a surge of panic. _Ben_.

She turns over, and the other side of her bed is neatly made. He’s not in her room. Wracking her brain, she sifts through her memories. She remembers asking if he wanted to stay the night…the two of them definitely fell asleep together. Then, words from last night float through her head – _11am, Gross. Remember_.

_Did he actually leave without saying goodbye?_

A heaviness settles in her chest, and a small pit of dread forms, uncurls in her stomach. She reminds herself to take deep breaths.

Somehow, she manages to push herself through her usual routine for getting ready.

The ache at his absence pricks the most sharply while she’s in the shower. Under the spray of warm water, she’s more keenly aware of her sensitivity in certain areas and soreness in others. She didn’t expect him to stay forever, and he owed her nothing. Knowing didn’t change the fact that she felt like someone swept the ground from underneath her.

Maybe this was karma.

.

.

.

Or maybe small mercies existed.

She notices it as she pads into the kitchen. One of her neon-pink post-it notes. The note is tacked onto her kitchen table, and on it, a time and an address are scribbled in Ben’s handwriting. A number— _he changed his phone number_ , she muses—is written at the bottom.

8:30pm. He wants her to meet him then at a nearby bridge overseeing Carnegie Lake.

Something flutters in her chest, some unidentified weight lifted. It takes her a few minutes to pinpoint and identify. When she does, she has to wipe at her eyes.

Hope.

* * *

The sky has darkened, colors bleeding together, when she arrives and spots him sitting on the ledge.

He’s facing the water with his legs dangling over the edge. She joins him, sitting to his left.

Ben turns his head towards her. “I’m sorry I left without an explanation this morning. I didn’t want to wake you.” Then, almost as an afterthought, he adds teasingly, “You snore by the way.”

“ _Someone_ exhausted me…Where did you go?”

Ben says it as if it’s the worst thing, “Brunch.” Adding, “Daniel was going to kick my ass if I didn’t show up for Ann’s reservation.

“…Do you remember the guy we ran into last night right before we left? And the girl? Daniel and Ann. Daniel’s one of my best friends at Yale and his girlfriend Ann goes to Princeton. The two of them have kept up this long-distance thing for a while.”

“So, you decided to third-wheel them this time?”

He laughs. “No.” He looks back at the water and responds carefully, “More like they wanted to set me up on a double date with them.”

Devi’s smile slips off her face. “Oh.”

Ben strokes his jaw. “Ann managed to convince Daniel that I needed to come with him this weekend and meet her roommate. Something about how since they’re best friends, and Daniel and I are best friends, it would be ‘perfect’ if things worked out. Plus, we’re all probably going to stay in the Northeast. Long story short, Daniel ended up dragging me to Princeton, and I was supposed to meet this girl at the party. Last night.

“By all accounts, the girl was great. Really nice. But when she pushed herself on me, it felt wrong. I just wasn’t feeling it. Coming to Princeton in general was weird already because…yeah. I brushed her off and left the room, and you know what happens next. Brunch today was awkward as hell.”

He scans her face. “I think about you almost all the time, Devi. I kept myself busy with clubs and classes. Slept with other girls. But in those quiet moments when I was by myself… _damn_.”

Devi bites her lip, holding his gaze, and murmurs, “I know what that’s like.”

They both look back at the horizon. Listen to the gentle stirring of the water. A warm breeze passes through. 

“I got a call yesterday, before the party.” Ben breathes out deeply. “Tweed D&D gave me an offer. They want a response soon.”

Tweed D&D—the bank she accepted an offer from, only a week ago.

And this was them, always linked in some way or another. By timing, by circumstance. Imperfect beings who weren’t crafted specifically for each other, but who were too similar, too tied to each other, to break apart completely. Even in leading parallel lives, their trajectories curved towards the other, inevitably crossing. Perhaps explained by nature’s alignment, or simply an entropic element that circled about. In the end, their paths were bound to intersect by another choice, another chance.

Devi swallows, tries to keep her voice level. “Are you going to accept it?”

But what she’s also asking is: _Can you accept what I’ve done? Can you accept being around me again? Can you accept a new start…with me?_

Ben continues to stare out at the water. Quiet. In the distance, a couple are kayaking together. The kayaks move leisurely, never wandering far from each other.

Their hands are inches apart on the ledge. Close.

Close enough for Devi to move her hand closer and stretch out a pinky finger, tentatively, shaking. She hesitantly brushes against Ben’s own hand.

A beat.

Then slowly, he turns his hand over, and their fingers weave together.

They watch the rippling of the water and the formation of little crisscrosses, connected, even at the furthest edges.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to all of you for reading and for your kudos + comments. Truly did not think I’d ever write and publish anything on this site, and then some greater force won out. 
> 
> I’m not sure what (if anything) will come next writing-wise. Don’t have a tumblr to link to either, but my inbox is open (comments are moderated), so definitely feel free to drop me a message in that way. 
> 
> Stay safe and healthy out there! xx


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